---
THEN
Heavy breathing filled the air.
FWUMP. Roi collapsed into a sitting position against the bark of a thick, gnarled tree, clutching his shoulder as blood seeped through the bullet hole in his coat.
"That was real fucking close, Spike!" he barked, wheezing through grit teeth. "What the hell were you thinking?"
The edges of his voice cracked as he examined the charred burn and entry wound. "That douchebag got me…"
Spike didn't reply. She stood silent, her shadow draped over Frank's unconscious body.
"Hey—it's not Spike's fault," Astrid snapped, her voice low but edged in tension. She glanced around them, scanning the deep forest they had warped into.
The surrounding terrain was pure wilderness, untouched and ancient. Thick, towering trees arched above them like cathedral pillars, their leaves shimmering faintly in hues of deep jade and bronze. The air was crisp, tinged with the earthy perfume of damp moss and old bark. Ferns blanketed the forest floor in sweeping emerald waves, and glowing fireflies danced in the mist, blinking like stars.
"We just lost Jarvis."
"Yeah? Who gives a damn!" Roi snapped, drawing in another shallow breath as he leaned his head back against the tree. "She almost got me killed… got us killed!"
"Too," Astrid said quietly, turning her head toward the tall man who was now getting to his feet.
Too remained silent, his eyes narrowed on Frank, who lay slumped over with his arms limp, still paralyzed from the toxin Spike used. His face bore fresh bruises from the brutal barrage of kicks he endured earlier.
"We didn't even get his damn body," Spike finally spoke, kneeling beside Frank. She began binding his hands and ankles with tight magnetic cuffs.
"Yeah?" Roi replied, combing his bloodied fingers through his hair. "That's 'cause some maniac was shootin' at us with crazy-ass ammo!"
He pointed sharply. "We lost Jarvis—we know that, Spike. But did you even stop to think about Bill?"
Bill stood several paces away, quiet, arms folded, watching Spike as if still processing the chaos.
"You know Roi's right…" Astrid added softly, gesturing at Bill. "He was the most vulnerable. You didn't even check on him."
Spike sighed, rising to her feet. "Well… I—I'm sorry, Bill. I wasn't thinking straight. The mission—"
"It's fine," Bill cut in, his voice neutral. "I don't understand it, but... it's okay. We all lost someone."
His eyes dropped to the ground. "Still… we left Jarvis back there. That's not nothing."
He looked up. "Maybe… maybe when we get back, you should take some time. You're burning up inside."
Spike gave him a silent nod.
"Alright," Bill added, gesturing at Frank, "are we keeping him here or what?"
SHFFFT.
A whisper echoed behind Spike. Not literal—but felt. A phantom rush through the trees.
Spike spun around, hand on her blade, eyes scanning.
"What is it, Spi?" Bill asked cautiously.
"Yeah," Roi huffed, raising a brow, "you suddenly hungry for squirrel huntin'?"
WHIRRR.
The faint sound of hidden tech activating spun in the air. The leaves parted as the sleek form of their hovercar shimmered into view—its cloaking device disengaging like fog peeling away from metal.
It was a smooth, matte-black vehicle with sharp, winged edges and glowing blue thrusters underneath. Sleek vents hissed steam as it hovered slightly off the ground, shifting leaves in a swirl beneath it.
"Nothing. False alarm," Spike murmured, brushing a lock of sweat-stuck hair from her forehead.
"Then let's move," Astrid said. "We've got what we came for."
Together, they shoved Frank into the back compartment of the hovercar. Its restraints locked with an audible hiss.
Far above them, perched in the canopy, Elias narrowed his eyes. The wind rustled through his cloak as he crouched on a thick tree branch, unmoving, watching the team vanish into the trees.
---
NOW
"Hey, Frankie boy… where are you?"
Doug's voice twanged with its trademark cowboy accent, but this time—there was weight behind it.
He moved fast through the outer edges of a regional zone near La Jar. The streets here were different—half-tech, half-forgotten. Bronze spires twisted between ruined scaffolds, and glowing signboards buzzed beside ancient cobblestones. Vines grew over walls laced with electric filaments; floating markets hovered in the distance like lotus petals drifting in place.
"Frank!" Doug shouted again, voice rising with urgency as he tapped at his comm. "Damn boy said he was takin' on a mission with his squad. Where in the hell are ya...?"
He turned into a back alley.
His footsteps slowed.
Sweat gathered along his palms. His hand lowered to his sidearm. The air was thick—too quiet.
Then—he froze.
Before him lay four bodies.
One of them…
"Frank?"
He staggered closer. His knees hit the gravel.
"Frankie boy… no. No, no, no…" His voice trembled as he cradled the boy's head in his arms. His red hair, the faint scar on his chin—everything.
Doug held the limp body to his chest, the weight of blood on his hands chilling him to his bones.
The blood was already turning cold.
"Damn it," he whispered, fury rising beneath the grief. The killer was nearby.
Click.
He tapped a device to alert the guild and bolted after the fading footsteps down the alley.
A flicker of motion.
A cloaked figure dashed ahead.
Doug aimed and fired.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!—bullets echoed as they struck the man mid-sprint, dropping him into a pool of blood.
"Guuurgh… pl-please… don't kill me…" the man gasped, coughing on his own blood.
Doug crouched beside him, face contorted with rage. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you kill them? Why Frankie?"
The dying man shuddered. "It was… all for the greater goo—gghhkkk!"
"Still got breath, huh?" Doug muttered.
"He… he still has… a purpo—"
BLAM. BLAM. BLAM. BLAM.
The bullets tore through his tanned face, blood pouring down his sun-scorched cheeks and into his lifeless eyes.
---
NOW
"Doug!?"
Grace's voice cut through the silence of the canyon road.
"What?" Doug muttered, hands tight on the wheel.
"Where the hell are we even going?"
"La Jar canyons," he answered flatly. "We're going after Frank."
A long silence.
"Let me down."
He blinked. "What?"
"I said let me down."
He brought the hovercar to a smooth halt. The canyon around them stretched vast—sharp red rock faces, deep ravines, and distant hawks gliding through layered heat ripples.
Grace stepped out.
"Come on! What are you doing?" Doug followed, leaping to the dusty terrain. "You've got injuries to heal for damn sake—"
"Yeah, injuries my body's already healed on its own," she cut him off.
"Damn all that ultra-healing crap… Then what is it, huh!?"
"You know why," she snapped, voice trembling. "You've been hiding something from me this whole time!"
Doug froze.
"Look, Grace—"
"Don't try me," she warned, a spike forming from her palm.
"I wasn't trying to protect the target… I was protecting my boy."
Grace turned, narrowing her eyes.
"I found him. Frank. He's… my ward. My kid. The boy I told you about."
"…That was four years ago, Doug."
"I know. And he hasn't aged a damn day. Still nineteen. Still got the red hair. The scar on his chin. Everything."
"…You sure it's not just—"
"No. I know my boy."
Grace hesitated. Doug took a step closer.
"The cult that killed him… They said he was destined for some 'greater good.' I thought it was bullshit. I made it bullshit. But everything's playing out just like the killer said. This ain't coincidence."
She stood there, breath steady, eyes softening slightly.
"You trying to stop it?" she asked, voice barely above the canyon winds.
"Yes."
SLAP!
Her palm cracked against his cheek.
"Okay… ow," Doug muttered, rubbing his face.
She walked past him.
"That's for almost getting me killed. And for hiding him."
"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he called out, hopeful.
"No. That'll take time."
She paused, opening the door.
"Their captain was with them too. If they both wanted me dead... I wouldn't be standing here."
Doug chuckled faintly. "Guess your luck hadn't run out yet."
WHUMP. The car door shut behind him.
"So…" Grace said, adjusting her seatbelt. "Where are they?"
Doug tapped a button on the dash. A holographic projection emerged—sleek, translucent, and riddled with data feeds. A red dot blinked.
"I built a tracker into one of my bullets. Nailed it into the leader's leg—Spike."
Grace leaned in, eyeing the map.
"…Then let's go get your boy back."